


overwhelmed

by halleloujah



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom!Harry, Coming Out, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Jealous!Harry, M/M, Rutting, Sassy Louis, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top!Harry, bottom!Louis, idk what else to tag, the interviewer is a bitch, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halleloujah/pseuds/halleloujah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hm, well I’m currently single,” and he’s fidgeting on the couch. “I do have my eyes set on someone though -- nice smile, great personality, caring. Perfect, really,” he continues, thinking of the person and not what he’s saying: “I mean, he’s great. I think I may love him?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s silence. Then: “Him?” The interviewer asks. And . . . Oh, shit.</p><p> </p><p>or, the one where Louis accidentally outs himself as gay in an interview, and Harry is his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	overwhelmed

**Author's Note:**

> italics are flashbacks

It didn’t happen the way Louis wanted it to. It was supposed to be slow, easy, simple. But, of course, life always decides to place Louis into the hands of Karma. Really, she must hate his guts. Louis wishes it happened how he wanted.

 

He wanted it to be a coming-out-of-the-closet-slowly sort of thing. It was supposed to be hinted through interviews and shows and pictures. Also the tattoo’s, but. Louis wanted everyone to get used to the fact that he could be gay before he actually outs himself to the world. That way, it wouldn't really be much of a shocker.

 

He isn’t allowed to just tell the world he’s gay, he likes dick, he likes men. Modest! Management is always on his tail about what he wears because god forbid he looks “too gay”. He’s not even allowed to glance at a guy without _someone_ from the team giving him a cold stare.

 

_Another interview, Louis thinks, this is insane. They just had an interview two days ago, and one before that. The small rooms are really not a good place for Louis. The boys are sitting like normal -- on a couch, all next to each other: Harry, Niall, Louis, Zayn, Liam._

_The interviewer leans in her seat, probably trying to give a view of her cleavage that is completely showing through her low-neck shirt. “So, the fans obviously need the deets about your love lives,” she says. Really? Always this question? “Inform us?” Really, Louis thinks the question is complete shit -- utterly annoying._

_Zayn decides to speak up first. Louis looks at him, wondering how he managed to get the most perfectly sculptured jaw-bone. “Well, nothing new for me. Still seeing Perrie.” and he smiles. Louis gets it -- Perrie is a very sweet girl, absolutely lovely._

_Liam is next, and Louis thinks that yeah, puberty did him well. He’s scruffy and less pudgy. Very handsome. “Danielle and I haven’t been together for a little while now, so I am currently single.” But it must be hard, because Louis remembers Danielle brightening Liam’s days._

_Louis sighs, he doesn't want to go next. He’s happy though, because Niall chooses this time to speak. “Single pringle, cheers!” he laughs, raising his invisible cup of beer. Really, Louis would much rather prefer wine._

 

_Harry answers next: “Apparently I’m dating all of my friends that are girls,” then: “Okay, don’t take that seriously. But I mean, I have friends that are girls that I like to hangout with . . . It doesn’t mean I’m dating them? The majority of them have boyfriends anyways.” And Louis, as his best friend, can see right through him -- can hear the annoyance in Harry’s voice._

_This leaves Louis last. The interviewer smiles her fake smile that makes Louis want to gag at how tight and forced it is. “That leaves you, Louis. What’s your love life like at the moment?” She asks. Louis thinks she has an annoying voice, too._

_So he says: “Hm, well I’m currently single,” and he’s fidgeting on the couch. “I do have my eyes set on someone though -- nice smile, great personality, caring. Perfect, really,” he continues, thinking of the person and not what he’s saying: “I mean, he’s great. I think I may love him?”_

_There’s silence. Then: “Him?” The interviewer asks. And . . . Oh, shit._

 

So that’s what brings him where he is right now; sitting on the chair in the changing room, the boys sitting across from him, looking at him. Like . . . He’s some animal. He’s not. Really, Louis thinks he deserves more credit. At least a little? Coming out is hard, it takes courage -- even if it was an accident.

 

Liam sighs across from him. “Management will give us shit for this.” He’s wearing the Take Me Home tour uniform. Louis can’t wait until they can finally wear some new clothes. Wearing the same look is boring.

 

Louis knows Management will give them shit for this. It’s scary, knowing that maybe he’s ruined it. Everything ends now. The rest of the boys will hate him and never talk to him again. Clearly, Louis’ subconscious hates him.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayn asks. And now Louis feels really sad and guilty -- he wishes he didn’t. All the boys have always been loyal and trustworthy to each other. “It’s not like we’d treat you any different.” Now Louis feels like the boys think he doesn’t trust them. That’s absolutely not the case, though. He trusts them with his life.

 

Louis shrugs. “Didn’t even plan on coming out today, really.” He planned on coming out in a few months, actually, even if it was against management.

 

“So, how about we pretend it never happened, then you tell us right now?” Harry says. And Louis looks at the seemingly puberty-magnet and wonders where the insecure Harry went -- the one with really curly hair and pudgy cheeks and no tattoos. “That way, you can come out to us how you originally wanted to.”

 

“Okay,” Louis agrees. “Guys . . . I have something to tell you.”

 

“You’re not going to be a dad, right?”

 

And, really Zayn? Really? Louis smiles a bit at that, but only a tug of the corners of his lips. “No, no,” Louis continues. “I’m, well . . . Gay.”

 

“I knew it!” Niall yells. Everybody looks at him with shock on their faces. He looks around, shrugs, then says: “What? I truly knew it, like, I had my suspicions. Not lying, before the interview I did.”

 

“Um . . . Okay?” Harry laughs. He looks at Louis with those fucking perfect green eyes, two dimples, white teeth, crinkles by his eyes. Louis wants to kiss him so hard he’ll see the sunlight. Louis really needs to stop thinking this way about his _straight_ best friend who likes _vagina_ and _girls_ and _boobs_ and he’s _straight_ and _Louis’ best friend,_ for crying out loud. “Well, we still love you no matter what. You’re Louis . . . You haven’t changed.” And the other guys nod.

 

That’s that.

 

-

 

Louis has an interview, by his lonesome, today. Usually it wouldn’t bother Louis, even if it hasn’t ever happened in the past, but he knows why he’s going and he knows what the whole interview will revolve around.

 

Turns out, the interviewer is a real bitch. She has very large boobs, is wearing a skirt and some fancy-looking blouse, high heels on her feet, and has blonde, curled hair.

 

The interviewer says: “Welcome, everybody!” And does the fake smile that all interviewers do. “Today we have a very special guest . . .” But Louis knows he’s nothing special. He believes he’s the least liked in the band. “. . . Member of the world famous boyband, One Direction, we have Louis!” And somehow the interviewer gets a massive audience round of applause for saying that.

 

Louis creates his tight, fake smile. The one that doesn’t reach his eyes. He suddenly has manners enough for this interviewer. “Thank you so much for having me.”

 

She says: “So, recent interview uncovered some news,” and, no, really? Shit, so stupid, Louis thinks. “Would you mind re-telling us this information?”

 

Yeah, Louis would mind. Maybe if you wanted to know, Louis thinks, then you would watch the video of it that is all over youtube and has thousands of copies. But he keeps his smile and posture. “I’m gay, that's about it.” And then the questions start. It goes like this . . .

 

Interviewer: “At what age did you first have an idea that you were gay?”

 

Louis: “Um, maybe 14?” He shrugs. “Don't know, really.”

 

Interviewer: “Do you think that you were born gay?”

 

Louis: Absurd. “I think I was born the way I’m supposed to be. How am I supposed to answer that?”

 

Interviewer: “When did you get your first gay feelings, and when did you have your first gay relationship slash experience?”

 

Louis: “In junior year,” can she stop referring to it as a _gay relationship?_ Like, it’s a _relationship._ “And during truth or dare.”

 

Interviewer: “How hard was it for you to come to terms that you like men?”

 

Louis: She doesn’t even care about his feelings. She keeps rattling of questions, like Louis is some robot. “How hard was it for you to come to terms that you like men?” Okay, sassy, but she totally had it coming.

 

Interviewer: “I -- what?”

 

Louis: _Ha!_ “I mean, seriously?”

 

Interviewer: “Um, okay,” she looks at her paper. “Have you ever encountered any type of discrimination?”

 

Louis: “Yes.” He answers, knowing that she wanted a full explanation and -- well, he can’t do that. If she wants to play this game, then Louis can too.

 

Interviewer: “What was it?” She rolls her eyes subtly. Well, honey, be rude and you’re going to get some Louis sass.

 

Louis: “The guys at school wouldn’t stand next to me at a urinal,” he scoffs. “Okay, just because I’m gay, doesn’t mean I am attracted to _every_ single guy. Like, are all straight men attracted to _every_ single woman? No.”

 

Interviewer: “Does this change anything?”

 

Louis: _Seriously?_ “No. I don't want any special treatment.”

 

Interviewer: “Are --”

 

Louis: “Do we have to know who’s gay and who’s straight? Can’t we just love everybody and judge them by the car they drive?” He snaps, standing up. “I’m done with this, goodbye.” Then he’s gone from the room.

 

-

 

He walks through the door of his and Harry’s flat, because, yes, they still live together. Problem? Hopefully not, because Louis is in a really pissy mood and doesn’t need to worry about anybody else’s concerns other than his own.

 

He sets his car keys down on the counter in the kitchen. Then grabs a glass and fills it with water, taking a drink.

 

Okay, really, the interviewer just kept asking questions that didn’t even go in a specific order or make any sense at all and Louis thinks it’s absolutely absurd that he had to go through with that because it was an absolute waste of time. He scoffs. The interviewer (Lindsay?) (though, at this point he doesn’t think it matters) didn’t even comment on his answers, going to the next question right away instead. That’s what pisses Louis off most. That, and the fact that the questions were fucking rude.

 

Gay people are human too, so why should they get treated differently?

 

“How’d it go?” Louis hears behind him, so he turns around from where he was currently standing against the counter, and looks at the tall boy standing there.

 

Louis shrugs. He wishes Harry didn’t looks so beautiful, or pretty, because its purely intimidating. Seriously, who looks like a sex-god without trying? Louis thinks it’s purely unfair. “She was a bitch, really,” he says. “You can watch it later, but she asked all these rude questions.”

 

“Eh, you’ll get over it.” Harry says.

 

And, _what?_ Did he seriously just -- okay, no. “Um, no I won’t, Jesus. She asked me if I born this way.”

 

Harry replies, “Really?” And Louis nods. He continues. “Well, the boys want to know if you’ll go clubbing later on with us.”

 

And, _what the fuck!_ Harry isn’t being supportive at all -- does he even care? Louis wants to know how Harry feels about this, because he can see in Harry’s eyes that he’s not okay with the interview. Which is fine, Louis obviously isn’t either. “Sure.” Louis says.

 

Maybe he can get well-needed shag?

 

-

 

Sweat, hormones, girls, boys -- and Louis is starting to think this is a bad idea. It’s so crowded, he feels like he can’t breathe. The music is so loud that you can literally feel it pumping through your veins. Louis doesn’t want to be there when it ends up sending people into seizures.

 

Louis is currently dancing on the dance floor, surrounded by plenty of people (so many that the titanic could be filled) (okay, maybe not that many people, but) who are sweaty and drunk and Louis feels out of place. He looks next to him, seeing a girl dirtily dancing onto some guy she probably doesn’t know but will wake up next to tomorrow morning.

 

“Wanna dance?” Says a voice from behind Louis. It’s clearly a guy, because the voice was deep and drunk and the hands that are now on his hips are definitely not feminine hands. So Louis decides that it can’t be so bad.

 

So he lets the man lead him to a different -- less crowded -- place on the dance floor, and then the man speaks again with a drunk voice and he’s slurring and Louis can smell the alcohol in his breath. “I’m Jack, and you are . . . ?”

 

Louis turns to look at him, sees brown hair with a bunch of different hues and shades and highlights and Louis thinks it’s nice. “Louis.” He replies. He can't really see the color of the man’s -- Jack -- eyes, considering the club is dark and has streaming lights. But Louis doesn’t care right now, because he’s fucking horny and this guy seems to be interested.

 

“Well, Louis, let’s dance.” Jack says. He turns Louis around, pressing into Louis’ back, and Louis can feel the mans dick. Jack grinds onto Louis filthily, rolling his hips in a motion that doesn’t even go to the beat of the music.

 

So Louis says he needs to go to the bathroom.

 

But instead of actually going to the bathroom, he gets pulled aside by big hands and tall legs and -- it’s Harry. “We’re going home now.” He says, like he’s mad. Louis grunts, because who does Harry think he is telling Louis what to do? He looks mad though, so Louis lets himself be taken outside and to Harry's car.

 

They get in, and it’s silent until Louis whines. “I finally meet a guy who wants to be with me, and you take that away. How could you?” And he feels slightly dizzy and drunk and -- how much did he drink? “Fucking rude, Harry, I’d rather you not do it again.”

 

Harry looks at him, eyes dark and angry and Louis wants to know what the fuck got into Harry? “He didn’t want to be with you, Louis,” Harry replies, heavy voice -- almost growling. “He just wanted a fuck. That’s it. You would’a been used, and done.”

 

“I don’t care! I haven’t been with a guy in forever, okay?” Louis freaks out. He sees Harry huff and continue driving. “You’re always getting action, and I’m over here being a virgin -- as of three months.”

 

“Three?” Harry sounds surprised. “Jesus, that’s -- oh, we’re here.” And they pull into the driveway, and park the car.

 

Louis slams the door shut. “God! I just wanted some dick, is it so much to ask for?” He walks inside and into the kitchen, getting some Advil for the headache that he can feel coming. He knows tomorrow will be shit because even the slightest of alcohol intake can give him massive hangovers.

 

Harry comes waltzing in like he owns the place. “Of course it’s a lot to ask for! It’s going to be hard for you to find somebody who will like you for _you,_ when you’re a fucking celebrity!” Harry yells. “Obviously you’re not going to get dick from a stranger, either! Seriously? It’s unsafe!”

 

“It’s the same as when you whore around getting girls who are strangers!” Shit. He didn’t just say that. “Fuck, Harry I didn’t mean it.” And Harry looks at him with sad eyes that look like they’re ready to leak tears.

 

“I think I’m gonna -- yeah . . .” Harry trails off, then leaves the kitchen.

 

Louis runs after him, turns him around, and pins him to the hallway wall. “I’m really sorry, honest, I didn’t mean that,” Louis apologizes. “I wasn’t thinking, Harry. You know that I wouldn’t say that to you and mean it.”

 

Harry looks at Louis, and Louis feels so angry at himself for even saying what he did. Harry is so sensitive to feelings and hurtful words, Louis should have thought before he spoke.

 

The boy he has pinned to the wall is looking at him with sad eyes, and Louis looks at him too. But then Louis’ eyes drift down to Harry’s lips, and it’s not supposed to happen like this. Louis and Harry are supposed to have sex that is full of love, not anger. (Okay, so Louis imagined it all. So what?)

 

“I don’t whore around,” Harry says. “I haven’t had a one night stand in over a few months.” And, _oh._ That’s news.

 

“Why?”

 

Louis is so used to Harry coming home with a girl slung on his shoulder, drunk -- and usually ugly -- and wearing slutty clothes. He’s sure to wearing earphones to listen to music because he can hear the moans from the room over. He hasn’t even noticed that Harry’s right -- he hasn’t seen a girl in the house for a few months. It’s shocking.

 

Harry looks at Louis’ lips. “Because I want you --” and then Louis feels Harry’s lips against his own and it’s soft and warm and pleasant and Louis never wants it to end. So he moves his lips and tilts his head with Harry’s, wraps his hands around Harry's neck, and pushes against Harry’s body a little. Harry moans, and Louis thinks its so hot that his dick wants a turn. They part away for a breath, and Harry is flushed pink. “So you’re --”

 

“-- fine with this?” Louis asks, confirmation, and Harry nods. “Well yeah, you little shit.” And he pulls Harry to him again, slotting their lips together in the most _beautiful_ way -- because they happen to fit perfectly, so cliché -- and Louis licks Harry’s top lip, then the bottom, and then nibbles on the bottom lip. He feels Harry’s tongue at his bottom lip, trying to sneak through Louis’ lips. Louis lets him.

 

Their tongues are warm and hot and the texture is _so_ weird but it’s heavenly and Louis loves it _so_ much. He runs his tongue on the underside of Harry’s, experimenting, and Harry moans again. Louis thinks Harry must have sensitive body parts _(oh god)_ everywhere because he seems to moan easily.

 

They break away again, then Harry grabs his arm and brings him into his bedroom. They sit on the bed, Louis straddling Harry, and Harry says: “This won’t make anything weird, right?”

 

Louis circles his hips a bit, teasing. “Only for the other boys because PDA,” he says, smirking. He really likes Harry from this angle; flushed underneath him. He lets himself rut against Harry's groin, rubbing their hard dicks together, creating a dry friction. But it feels so good, oh _so_ good. Louis moans. “Shit -- I’ve liked you for a while now -- just thought it would be a -- ah, good time -- okay, yeah, like that -- to tell you.”

 

He continues to rut against Harry, never slowing down -- no matter how tired.

 

Harry stills, spilling his spunk into his boxers. He nods. “Yeah, yeah -- _jesus christ,_ Louis,” he waits for Louis to reach his own climax, and then Louis rests his forehead against Harry’s. Harry closes his eyes and says, “So are we a _thing_ now?”

 

Louis chuckles. “Mhm,” and then gets up and undresses, Harry doing the same. They throw their dirty boxers into the basket, and then grab a towel to wipe themselves up. “Here.” And he tosses Harry a new pair of boxers. (Okay, they’re actually briefs because briefs are so much tighter.) They put them on in silence, and get back into bed.

 

“Well, what now?” Harry asks, and Louis looks at him, sitting on the bed, innocent. Okay, maybe not, but. Louis cuddles into his side, kisses his chin, then his jaw, then back to his chin, then lastly the mouth.

 

Louis kisses him deeply. His lips molding with Harry’s, wet and warm and so comfortable. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if this was his fate. “Lets just lay here and snog like teenagers.”

 

“I am a teenager.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

And if they get off with each other one more time, well -- nobody has to know.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback? my wattpad is: larryokay. go follow me there? c:


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